Opening his eyes, Rowan thought he'd pissed the bed with how wet it was.
No. Just my sweat.
Of course, he was human—and like all humans, he had those times where, after falling asleep, he woke up covered in sweat for seemingly no reason, usually accompanied by an intense thirst.
However, this time, he did indeed have a reason.
Shivering as though it still hurt, Rowan trembled at the thought of the acid. It wasn't just the pain, either. The noises he made as he gagged, the sound of its bubbling, and the sizzling flaying of his own skin repeated ad nauseam in his skull.
Judging from his track record, he perhaps had a terrible habit of replaying his worst moments inside his head, even after they'd already passed.
He shook his head, getting out of bed and leaving behind his soaked covers and blanket, bringing a change of clothes to the bathroom as he quickly showered.
Though usually fond of hot water, he chose to keep it at a mild warmth for today.
After finishing, he went to the mirror, able to see himself fairly well from the minimal amount of steam that had been created by his choice in temperature. He got dressed, brushed his teeth, and looked into his reflection with what was perhaps a new perspective.
Of course, as a Hunter-in-training, he'd technically almost died many times. He wasn't a complete stranger to being a Hunter, having gone with his dad to kill a few monsters, and unfortunately roughed up by them.
Yet, all of that utterly paled in comparison to his abysmal closeness to death. Death had not seized him, nor had it even brushed shoulders, as he still had plenty of time in the vat of acid to die a slow, painful death.
Unmistakably, he had become very, very aware of its looming presence in his life.
You hear all the statistics about Hunters being killed, and then you step onto the field… You think it can be you, but you never truly believe it until it shows you.
It came with the job.
But the idea that an easy death isn't guaranteed… isn't that worse than simply knowing you are to die?
Hunting was, ultimately, a profession where one put their lives on the line for money. Simply becoming a Hunter meant that one was staking their life on their abilities, teammates, and luck—nothing else.
That was obvious. Yet, Rowan hadn't even considered the fact that because he was gambling his life, he did not have control over how he perished.
If he was fated to die due to being a weakling in a risky profession, then he'd be lucky if his death was instantaneous. But of course, there was always the risk of an agonizing, harrowing end that did nothing but squeeze every last drop of suffering from his life before it finally let him go.
Despite having just showered, Rowan had already begun to tremble, his body glistening with cold shivers and sweat.
I… I'm scared of dying in pain.
Everyone knew they were going to die. Yet, many could only beg for an easy way out.
…
Looking at his spiky white hair in the bathroom mirror of his university, Rowan ensured his hair was adequately spiked. It was a look he was somewhat fond of, and of course, even if everyone in this world had a plethora of hair colors they could receive, hair texture was hair texture.
So, unfortunately, he still needed products to keep his hair spiky.
Though, it almost made me late this morning, since I had to re-shower the sweat off my body, and then fix my hair back up. Honestly, I might just stop styling it.
He went silent for a few moments, remembering how his hair looked when it was wet. Unfortunately, flat, short hair didn't suit his face at all.
Yeah, no thanks. I guess if I'll stop styling it, I need to grow it out, then.
But that day is not today.
Quickly hurrying to Magic Class, Rowan's phone went off. He checked it, finding the caller already had an ID.
Huh? Aubrey? Wait, it's that chick, isn't it?
He answered the phone.
"Heya! So, I just wanted to let you know we're planning a job on Thursday! More deets later, just letting you know to keep a clear schedule! Feel free to join us today or tomorrow, though! So long!"
"W-wait! How'd you unlock my phone?!" He yelled. Upon the people in the hallway giving him sharp glances, he quieted his voice and shrank down.
"Huh? I know your grammy's name is Sasha, you think I wouldn't know your phone password? These eyes of mine are too terrifying to put into words! Haha, just kidding. Anyways, see—oh wait, I almost forgot!"
"Huh?"
"We all have codenames! Super cool, ain't it? Well, you're Merope! Meh-rope, okay? Sweet! See ya!"
The woman quickly hung up on him, to which he sighed deeply.
Merope? What does that even mean? Isn't the point of codenames to give yourself something badass so you feel cool being called by it?
Glancing at the clock, his thoughts were promptly sentenced to death by firing squad, as he rushed to class and rejoined his friends.
All together, they were a group of four. Walking close to him, there was a man with bright red hair and ocean-blue eyes. When Rowan actually noticed that, it reminded him of the sea he'd experienced—and the pain that accompanied his first ever legitimate hit.
"So, how'd the Hunting trip yesterday go?" The man—Kira, calmly asked. Rowan's eyes dulled, as he instinctively scoffed.
"Great. Got some valuable experience—and more importantly, some money. You guys wanna go eat out tonight? My treat~!"
Having already decided to give five-hundred dollars to his family, he wanted to help make some memories, with the remaining two-hundred as his own personal share. And since it was his personal share, he would obviously spend it on his friends.
"I'll pass," a tall, muscular and handsome man with long black hair stated. Of course, this was David—an attractive guy who beat the mess out of Rowan so badly that it made him want to get stronger. And with that desire for strength, he went Hunting yesterday. And the rest was obvious.
So seriously, curse this sexy, sexy man! He is the root of all my problems! Good thing I don't have to pay for him…
"You sure?" Rowan asked. Well, no, it was his mouth that spoke. After all, it was instinctual to him.
"Yep, I'm sure. Diets and stuff, you know how it is."
"I don't, but whatever."
Kira's face contorted with a plainly evil grin. "Well, I'm not like David. Yes, I would love to eat out tonight! Free food is the best."
That evil grin faded into one of genuine happiness. Seeing this, Rowan's lips curled upwards, his heart skipping a beat.
As he'd expected, there was nothing better than helping the people he loved.
Well, that actually makes it sound gay. It's really platonic love. There's absolutely nothing that makes me feel more happy than knowing that I'm not useless.
"What about you?" Rowan asked, peeking down to see a fairly short man with curly black hair and beaming red eyes.
"Of course, who the fuck says no to free food? Dude, you're a fuckin' lifesaver—nothing sucks more than being a broke ass college student."
Rowan nodded his head, keeping his gaze downwards. His heart was set ablaze, burning with a joy that was difficult to describe. It overpowered all sense, all rational thought. The kind of happiness that many people would give up their lives to receive.
The four entered Magic Class, sitting near the back and continuing to talk before their professor finally walked in.
…
"Yo, Schwartz, Rowan's locked in," Kira whispered, so quietly that he assumed Rowan couldn't hear him. Though, he could, even if it was a bit difficult to hear it over the sound of putting pencil to paper, taking notes on various spell ideas.
Truth be told, most of this stuff was that which he'd already learned, or at least the same general stuff. Even as a kid, they learned about different kinds of magic, essential to developing their bodies in the event that monsters managed to reach the cities.
Akin to how even highschoolers still had to learn about the same wars they did when they were in elementary school, even college students had to learn the different kinds of Fire Magic.
Though, admittedly, it was somewhat different.
Turns out, there's three different kinds of fire that everyone can produce.
With a well-made artistry decorating his page, Rowan summarized what he learned into three neat paragraphs, which were accompanied by graphics and little extra notes.
The first of which happened to be Rowan's favorite—explosive fire. It was as simple as it was named; touch it, it goes boom!
When he had attempted to mimic the White Death, Rowan had created plenty of these balls of joy, and was able to control them due to his Ability.
Second, less fun but still not bad, was controlled fire. Rowan had used it to create his domain of plasma; incredibly flexible and controllable, it could linger around or even move, depending on how much mana was put into it.
And third, finally, came the most boring one of all—ordinary fire. When Rowan used a flamethrower, he used this one. It didn't explode at the touch, nor could he whip it around; it was fire that was shoved out of his body and sent down.
Seriously, the education system failed us if we didn't even learn this basic stuff! Well, no, we were too busy learning about algebra and more about other kinds of magic. Teaching a bunch of children how to use fire was… Yeah, maybe I'm the dumb one instead.
He continued to take notes, suddenly filled with enthusiasm to learn more about magic in order to become stronger.
After all, weak people could never hope to choose how they died.
…
"So, what's got you so locked in? Did you get your ass kicked yesterday?" Kira asked, sitting at a diner—particularly, his favorite restaurant—with everyone else.
Rowan took a sip of water, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders. "I guess you could say that. I guess I just learned that I should take Hunting more seriously, I suppose."
Immediately blurbing in, Schwartz leaned forward, jabbing his pointer finger at Rowan with a scowl of disappointment. "If that's the case, why'd you switch from a sword to a knife today during Weapons Training!? If you're taking it seriously, you'd know that the sword is a better weapon."
Rowan sighed, shrinking into his chair.
"It's just that I learned how appreciative I am of the knife, okay? It saved my butt yesterday—so even if it's not the best weapon… I'll always use it. Or at least have it handy."
The others couldn't exactly disagree. A knife was part of a swiss-army-knife for a reason, after all.
Even if it was lacking in range, which was one of the most important factors for a weapon, it still possessed general utility, perhaps even more so than even a spear.
Following shortly after his words, a heaping serving of ginormous burgers was delivered to them by a rather lovely-looking waitress. With hair that matched Rowan's own cherry-pink eyes, dressed over her light pale skin, she had a certain grace. One which was well-accompanied by her cute outfit.
Oh wow, she looks pretty good. Neat.
With a blank expression, Rowan kept his eyes to the giant burgers, which were even bigger than the size of his own head!
"...So, Monster Burger really is your favorite, huh Kira? Never had it myself, but… yeah, no, I get it."
Quite literally drooling at the sight, Kira wiped his animalistic slobber with a napkin before flattening the burger and compressing it to a human level, opening his maw and gorging on it without even a shred of manners.
Seeing this, Rowan felt a shiver run down his spine.
It looks vaguely similar to what I saw when that giant shark leapt to swallow me. How frightening…
Rowan did the same, needing to keep the burger at a level where it could fit in his jaw, before finally taking a bite. Truly, the meat was exquisite, being just-right. The cheese had nearly melted, sticking to the roof of his tongue in lingering flavor.
So good!
Jeez, all this stuff has to have a lot of protein, right? Good, I need protein for this kind of stuff.
After all, I need to take my training more seriously. And what good is training if your diet is shit? Yep, yep, diet's super important!
If my diet, sleep, and training all work well, then my Ability will get even stronger.
It was so—the Ability, and mana itself, really, followed after the body.
A powerlifter would have incredibly strong, but non-enduring magic. A marathon runner would typically have a fairly weak, but incredibly long-lasting magic. That was the simplest example possible.
But for my Ability, strength is practically the only thing that matters. Though, from what I googled in-between classes, there's some differences in the types of strength your Ability and magic can receive, for me, endurance just isn't going to help beyond giving me good cardio.
That was why he trained so vigorously in gym class today. Instead of doing the bare-minimum, he actually went out of his way to officialize PR's and take note of them, desiring to see improvements to his strength.
As long as he grew stronger physically, his Ability, which currently took off merely half the mana needed, could eventually grow into something even stronger. Although, of course, there was one last layer which, like many others, crushed his hopes.
Genetics.
Swallowing part of the burger, having taken his fifth bite, Rowan looked at his arms. They did not betray the way he'd built them, reflecting only a very small, minor musculature and definition, built off of cardio from playing sports with his highschool friends somewhat consistently.
Yet, since most of the sports that usually relied on strength as a major part ended up being things Rowan wasn't naturally good at, he inadvertently stuck to the ones that were based more so off of speed and skill, doing those things more often and thus not honing strength, but instead conditioning.
Come to think of it, I'd always get my butt whooped in arm wrestling. But then again, I'd also kick everyone's ass at badminton.
Truly, there is no sport more difficult and grueling than badminton!
Silly jokes aside, he was by no means a string-bean, at least when asked by a majority of people. They'd consider his build moderately below-average when it comes to musculature, some even thinking he was rather athletic.
But I've gotta bulk up. Actually, that in itself is a problem.
"Rowan, you look like you're lost in thought. Wassup?" Kira asked, glancing at his friend, having already scarfed down his mass of meat, cheese and bread.
"Ah? Oh, nothing. Hm. Actually, though…"
His eyes wandered, honing in on David. David, a handsome man with a muscular and lean build, was naturally the most well-versed in fitness of everyone there. So,
"Hey guys, would it be cool if we went Hunting tonight? I've decided to take Hunting more seriously, and I've got some ideas. Mind helping me test stuff out on monsters?"
The three Hunters quickly agreed.